Patricia’s and my thoughts are with the family of Carl, whose life was savored at a celebration of life today. A lively, laughing, loving, and loved husband, father, grandfather. A good friend. An excellent doctor. A voracious reader. He taught himself to weld. He was a pilot. He was captivated by the water, by sailing, by fly-fishing. He loved dessert. There is more grace in my life for the privilege of knowing Carl and his family.
Perhaps it is the privilege of hearing stories of him, some recent and many from long and long ago. Perhaps it is having just begun a period in my life when there is more time for sleep. Perhaps it is the phase of the full moon, now waning. Perhaps it is . . . . oh . . . who knows.
Anyway each day this week, I have remembered the sight, sound, taste, and feel of other times in my life. They have played out within me in living color, the pores of memory opening like a bud. They arrive, almost on a single inhale, as though for a moment the air is laden with a lightness that is an invitation into spacious rooms of memory.Continue reading “One misty moisty morning”